Like Canadian geese, a bounced check, or the evil one, the fucking landlord from hell and his bitchy wife have returned to once again make my life miserable. For those of you not in the know, my landlord lives next door to us when he is not wintering in Arizona. He is a gruff old bastard who is incredibly difficult to deal with.
How he became our next door neighbor instead of just a landlord is a sad, sad story. The previous tenants, Rhonda and BJ (no shit, that is really his name), lived there for 8, almost 9, years. By all accounts, good tenants. They took good care of the place, paid their rent on time, and were awesome neighbors to me and the Blonde. They were never loud, and generally kept to themselves. So, about 4 years ago, perhaps 5, the Dark Landlord of Crankiness and his equally crabby wife showed up and informed Rhonda and BJ that they were going to be parking the RV in their back yard and hooking into their sewer, water and electric. Long story short, Rhonda and BJ didn’t think much of that idea, the cops got involved and the landlord evicted them. Yep, simple as that, evicted them. Apparently there is no legal recourse for a renter who has been wronged by a landlord in the great state of Oregon. So, tails between their legs, Rhonda and BJ moved and the Blonde and I have been stuck with the landlord from hell ever since.
Two years ago Darth Landlord showed back up here from his annual journey to the land of the sun and illegal immigrants and proceeded to promptly piss me the fuck off. He had this incredibly dumbassed idea that he was going to drill his own water well in the back yard. By hand. I know, boggles the mind, doesn’t it? So he is out back hammering on an all metal drilling spade, and turning, hammering and turning, and hammering and turning. POOF! Me, “honey, wtf happened to the power?” The lights had gone out and I just KNEW Darth had something to do with it. Sure as shit, he had cut a power line in his efforts. No power is bad enough, but no power after dark really blows. So we all had to wait for the geniuses at Pacific Power to fix Captain Douchebag’s fuck-up. I guess his experience with the power company changed his mind about the well, because very shortly after this he had a concrete company out pouring a slab over the botched attempt. After the slab was poured, he tore down the wooden fence between our two properties and erected a fucking eight foot high corrugated metal fence. I seen that when I got home from work and I thought, you have to fucking be shitting me?!?! You half expected to see Lamont and Pops pull up in an old beat-up, faded red pick-up truck. Cue ‘Sanford and Son’ music:
To say I was livid would be somewhat of an understatement. The Blonde and I are anal retentive as hell when it comes to the appearance of our home; both inside and out. However, there wasn’t fucking thing one I could do without risking getting evicted like BJ (heh!) and Rhonda had.
Last year, Darth Landlord and his partner in evil showed up, and like always, the sense of dread set in. “What the fuck is the crazy old bastard going to do this year?” The first day, yes, the first motherfucking day, the old bastard comes over and tells me, “Mark, I sure don’t want to raise the rent on you, so I have a proposition for you.” Oh fuck, this isn’t going to be good. “Rather than raise your rent, I’d like to use your dumpster and yard waste containers.” I’m thinking, well, I don’t like it, but it is a livable solution to ‘no raise in rent’. Then the other fucking shoe dropped; “I know you have a wireless network set up and I’d like to hook my computer up to your internet.” Ok, enough is enough. “Well, Darth, I can’t do that. I am contractually bound to my employer to maintain the integrity of my home network because it maintains a persistent connection to the home office. They could fire me and have me arrested for violating that contract, so there is just no way I can do that.” Some of that was true, some was bullshit. He looked like he was going to go for his turd-sabre, but thought the better of it and acquiesced. That was how LAST year started.
To make the fact that he is home even worse, neither me nor the Blonde have gone back to work. Yay us, we get to be around the old bastard all day, every day now. If you see a mushroom cloud in the Pacific Northwest, you’ll know this year got off to a good start too.